


Peek-a-Boo

by churkey



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Hale Has Chest Hair, Derek Hale has a Beard, Derek Hale is a Softie, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:28:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23615251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/churkey/pseuds/churkey
Summary: It begins with some hair peeking out from Derek's v-neck and devolves from there.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 9
Kudos: 337





	Peek-a-Boo

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this after posting my soul mark fic. A little fluffy palate cleanser for people.

It was hard to miss that Derek was one of the most beautiful people Stiles had ever seen in real life. Which is saying something given the supernatural hotness he’s constantly surrounded by. But he’d never been _attracted_ to Derek.

Not until this exact moment.

They’re at the loft and Derek is wearing one of his fairly ubiquitous v-neck shirts. Whatever. Same old same old.

What’s new are the curls of hair peeking out from the collar. Stiles had always thought it was strange that a dude with as much stubble as Derek had zero chest hair. It suddenly strikes Stiles as weird and kind of hilarious that Derek’s been waxing or shaving or whatever.

 _Manscaping_.

He isn’t anymore.

It’s the worst. Because Stiles has a sudden and intense desire to smush his face into Derek’s hairy chest and _rub_.

Wait.

When did Derek’s stubble turn into a beard?

Not a super long one but it looks like it’s grown enough to become soft instead of the sandpaper scratch that it used to look like.

Stiles also wants to rub his face on Derek’s face.

He can feel that his cheeks are flaming with a blush and he really needs to be somewhere that isn’t _here_ like, immediately.

Better yet, five minutes ago so he could’ve avoided this moment.

He looks at the time on his phone. This way he’ll have a down-to-the-minute date and time for when his life was forever ruined.

Derek Hale is suddenly hot like burning. Derek Hale is a _werewolf_ who will _smell_ that Stiles wants to rub his face all over him.

Derek Hale is looking at him with a brow raised.

Were his eyes always that colour? Is that a ring of brown around the pupil? What the fuck? Why is Stiles noticing all of these details!? He doesn’t care.

(He doesn’t _want_ to care.)

Derek crosses his arms and his biceps bulge and, well, Stiles’ poor brain goes fuzzy with static.

 _“Stiles!”_ Derek’s sharp bark snaps his brain and the world back into focus.

“Uh… what?” Stiles numbly says. Everything still feels a little hazy.

“What is wrong with you?” Derek asks, something soft in his eyes. Warm hand landing on Stiles’ shoulder and giving it a firm squeeze.

Derek has come a long way from the angry and aggressive dude from when they first met. Stiles knows now that he’s a good guy. One of the best, really. He doesn’t know what kind of relationship they have but he knows he’d do pretty much anything to protect him. Knows Derek would do the same. It’s kind of their thing.

When did Derek start looking at him with soft, gentle eyes? Stiles hadn’t even known Derek’s eyes could _look_ like that. Certainly never expected it aimed in his direction.

It makes Derek improbably hotter.

Derek puts his other hand on Stiles’ shoulder and shakes him a little, “Stiles,” he growls.

Shit. Fuck. _Damn_. When did _that_ get hot too?

“Yeah, sourwolf?”

“What. Is. Wrong. With. You.” Derek grits out (but his eyes are still soft soft soft).

“When did you stop shaving your chest? Or waxing? Whatever,” Stiles asks.

Derek’s brows draw down in confusion, “My chest. What.”

“Oh my, god. Inflect! Is your beard as soft as it looks? _Why would you do this to me?_ ” Stiles flails and Derek’s hands drop from his shoulders, “I was fine. Everything was _fine_! And then you show up with chest hair and a soft, pettable beard. With your soft, pretty eyes. Now I’m _not_ fine and this is all your fault!”

Stiles’ ranting finally puts some distance between them and Stiles is no longer looking directly at Derek. It’s becoming easier to think. And as rationality starts to restore itself, he realizes _what_ he’s been saying and, well…

Time to flee. He turns to make a break for it.

Except that Derek is _in the way_. He’s in the way and _smiling_. _Where_ did those dimples come from? What is up with those _teeth_?

How is Derek _adorable_?

“If I’d known a little chest hair would finally get you to notice me, I’d have stopped waxing ages ago,” Derek says with a decidedly less soft glint in his eyes.

“Wh– what?” Stiles’ brain is on the verge of going fuzzy again.

Derek takes a step that puts him _right_ in Stiles’ personal space. He cups the side of Stiles’ neck and a thumb brushes over his throat.

Static.

Things don’t start making any more sense when he feels Derek’s soft lips give him a gentle kiss.

Nothing makes sense anymore.

But at least Stiles gets to rub his face on Derek’s chest and beard and it’s even better than he’d imagined.


End file.
